Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Guyana and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Mary Jane Girls to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Y Pants,
Idris Muhammad,
Traffic Nightmare,
FM Einheit,
The Mojo Men,
Pylon,
Hoover,
Icehouse,
Camouflage,
Pussy Galore,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Blackbyrds,
Crime,
The Associates,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wolf Eyes,
cv313,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kerrie Biddell,
Curtis Mayfield,
Can,
Motorama,
The Trojans,
Moby Grape,
Gong,
T. Rex,
The Fugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Liliput,
The Birthday Party,
Sound Behaviour,
Khruangbin,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Durutti Column,
Barbara Tucker,
Ohio Players,
Kerri Chandler,
Pole,
Gil Scott Heron,
Donny Hathaway,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Crooked Eye,
Kas Product,
The Knickerbockers,
Kool Moe Dee,
In Retrospect,
Henry Cow,
The Gun Club,
Warren Ellis,
Jimmy McGriff,
These Immortal Souls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Model 500,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Babytalk,
The Offenders,
Marvin Gaye,
X-102,
Grandmaster Flash,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.